


Some Like it Hot

by alternatealto



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Gen, Humor, Sick!Wilson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 16:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1517891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alternatealto/pseuds/alternatealto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's said that "Revenge is a dish best served cold".  But some like it hot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Like it Hot

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2013 for the Camp Sick!Wilson Insta-Prompt Challenge on LiveJournal.

**Some Like it Hot**

 

It was lucky that Mrs. Wojiewski had just left his office, because it meant Wilson was by himself when House burst in, knuckles white around his cane and his entire body vibrating with fury.

“I told you,” Wilson said, before the other man could so much as open his mouth. “I  _warned_  you, House. You were the one who opted to escalate this.”

“Where did you put it.” It wasn’t a question so much as a demand; House’s voice had dropped to a grating rumble and his eyes were slitted.

“In the most unlikely place I could think of,” Wilson told him, leaning back in his chair with an air of casual victory guaranteed to raise House’s ire another couple of notches. “But you’re a genius, I’m sure it won’t take you long to figure it out.”

“You couldn’t have done this by yourself,” House pointed out. “You had to have help.”

“And you’ll never find out who, so don’t bother trying to grill my accomplices. They were just a couple of guys in need of a fast twenty bucks. And nobody else in your building is willing to speak to you, so even if there were witnesses it won’t do you any good.”

“Dammit, Wilson! I – ”

“House, when you consider what I could, and probably  _should_  have done in response to your insensitive, tasteless,  _nasty_  little prank, you’ll have to admit that what I  _did_ do is really a pretty mild response. Most people would be getting restraining orders and taking you to  _court_  for something like that.”

“Almost nobody actually saw it.”

“House, it had over  _four hundred thousand_  hits by the time I got you to take it down! What if some of them were my  _patients?_   What if – what if one of Amber’s  _relatives_ saw that?”

“You shouldn’t leave your homemade porn lying around for anybody to find.”

“Password-secured,  _encrypted_  files on a flash drive all the way in the back of a locked drawer of the desk in my den were not ‘lying around for anybody to find’, House!”

House looked slightly ashamed, but still defiant. “Okay. You win. I declare you victor in this round of our ongoing prank war. Tell me where it is.”

“Find it yourself, House. I have another patient appointment in five minutes, so I need you to leave now.”

“Wilson . . . !”

“Okay. One clue, and it’s the only one you get: Think outside the box.”

“Where the hell could you hide something that big other than the – wait. Is that – are you sunburned?”

“House, my patient—”

“You’re  _sunburned._  Which means you’ve been spending time outdoors, and you never forget to put on sunscreen. Which means you were outside for a long time.  Which means –”

There was a knock on Wilson’s office door.

“If you left it in the alley and it’s been  _stolen,_ ” House began. Wilson, getting up to open the door, rolled his eyes.  

“Luckily for you, I wouldn’t actually leave something you valued where someone else could steal it. Keep thinking, you’ll get it eventually. Come in, Mr. Eidenier, Dr. House was just leaving.”

House glared at both of them and stumped his way back out to the balcony.

* * * * *

 

“So,” House said, “you fell asleep, didn’t you?”

“It was very comfortable, and the breeze up there was wonderful,” Wilson agreed.

“Did you have everyone in the  _building_  helping you move this? Because your story about two guys and a quick twenty bucks doesn’t hold water – nobody would go through all that for less than fifty each.”

Wilson took a swig of his beer and settled back comfortably into the couch. “While you’ve been busy for years pissing off all your neighbors, I’ve been busy making friends with them. They now consider me—”

“—the noble, self-sacrificing, angelic friend who puts up with the rotten, misanthropic cripple.”

“Or something like that,” Wilson agreed.

“They don’t really know you at all.”

“Nope.” Wilson took another swig of beer. “Which can come in handy.” He smiled at House with an expression that managed to combine conspiracy and self-satisfaction.

“It didn’t cost you a dime to get this couch hauled all the way up to the roof, did it?”

“Nope.”

“You,” House told him, making an ineffective grab for the beer can, “owe me two hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Tell you what,” Wilson said, “I’ll buy your lunch tomorrow.”

  
  
  



End file.
